What if…
a ballerina received a jewel — left backstage one night, infatuation made physical form. She wore it day and night, in a delicate necklace at her throat through rehearsals and performances. An old mine diamond, new at the time and cut, like she was, to dance with the flickering golden candlelight. It moved with her, caught light with her, disappeared into shadow with her. Now, set in gold, it moves oncemore, forever caught in motion, like the skirt of a dancer mid-twirl as she makes her exit offstage.
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